Date: Sun, 20 Dec 1998 16:34:58 PST
From: "Robert J. Cutter"
Subject: Behavioral Problems
Disclaimer: This story is intended for a mature male audience. It contains
reference to man/man, man/boy and boy/boy sex. It also contains an act of
incest. If this is not to your liking, or you are under age twenty-one, or
you are in anyway offended by the male homosexual experience, please find
another site. Thank you.
BEHAVIORAL PROBLEMS
When I dropped out of college in my sophomore year, I was a real bum. I had
squandered my chance at a good education and I was turned loose to face a
rather hostile world completely ill equipped.
It isn't as if my parents didn't try to help me. Oh, they tried all right!
Their care and concern worked for my brother - he's a surgeon - and it
worked for my sister - she's a veterinarian. They tried everything in their
power to help me come to terms with my talents and abilities - shrinks,
gurus - you name it, they tried it. They knew I was a tough case and, lucky
for me, they never gave up.
I grew up in the affluent suburbs of western New Jersey, but as all bums
eventually do, I gravitated to New York City. I took various jobs to earn
some necessary money; Manhattan is a very expensive place to hang out. I
would crash with friends, casual acquaintances or one night stands as often
as possible. Some of my high school buddies had apartments in the city and
I would also scrounge off of them.
I finally decided to get a steady job; it was a matter of increasing
necessity. My choice was washing dishes and bussing tables in an incredibly
dingy, greasy spoon restaurant and club on the Lower East Side of
Manhattan. It was the area of Manhattan known as "Alphabet City", because
the names of the four main north/south avenues are the first four letters
of the alphabet. This was before the area was completely gentrified - it
was still a slum then not converted tenement apartments selling for
hundreds of thousands of dollars.
I was lucky to get this job because things were rough at the low end of the
pay scale and the competition was surprisingly tough. I knew that I had to
show my father that I was able to support myself and be independent. I was
a disappointment to him and my mom, but he also realized that because I was
the youngest child and was pampered and coddled all my life, that he and my
mom had a great deal to do about how I turned out.
After six months or so of toting dishes and assorted other shit in and out
of the kitchen, the head cook (I refrain from calling him a chef because
that word connotes certain culinary skills and creativity that he did not
possess) had me start working the grill. He said I was reliable (I showed
up when I was supposed to); he had noticed that I was able to cook very
well when I prepared my own meals. The biggest compensation of working in
this particular place was that I got my meals for free, and they let me
cook them myself when I demonstrated that I knew my way around a kitchen. I
had always loved to cook. I did a lot of it at home, especially after my
mother discovered my culinary talent. She would have me cook for some of
her dinner parties and they always got rave reviews.
So I eventually became the grill chef and was churning out burgers, grilled
chicken, etc. by the carload, especially late at night when the dance club
part of the operation was in full swing. I enjoyed the work -- it was
hard and not too rewarding, but it kept me occupied and the time really
flew by. I also kept me from sitting around my very small apartment and
feeling sorry for myself; I was constantly bemoaning the fact that I lacked
a suitable partner to share my life. I would work the long hours and then
sleep until it was time to return to work.
In early June I arrived for work and found a sign on the door that the
place was closed. The employees had been given absolutely no warning. I
went around to the back entrance and found Luke, the head cook. He was
packing up his personal stuff.
"What's happened, Luke?" I asked.
He looked at me with tears in his eyes. "Place's been sold. New owners
takin' over tomorra."
"God! That was fast!"
"Yup! Didn't give us no warnin' or nothin'."
"Who are these new people?"
"Don't know. Jus' know they're agonna modernize the joint and make it real
ritzy." He said the word "ritzy" with more than a little sarcasm in his
voice.
I thought I'd better get my stuff out too, so I went to my locker and
started packing up my belongings. As I turned to leave, a very well dressed
man, whom I would guess was in his mid-thirties, walked into the locker
room.
"Are you Kyle Garrison?" he asked is a soft voice.
"Yes I am," I answered.
"I'm Quinn Flanagan. I'm a partner in the new ownership of this place." We
shook hands and said our pleasantries. He looked me over a bit and I did
the same with him. The wedding ring on his left hand warned me away.
"We're going to gut this monstrosity," he said.
"Well, it can sure stand a good gutting," I replied with a chuckle in my
voice.
"We're going to put in a very fine restaurant -- very upscale. Going to
hire a top chef and come up with a really innovative menu."
"Sounds interesting," I said noncommittally as I began moving towards the
door.
"In the late evening, after 11PM, we will turn it into a dance club for
five hours."
"Sounds swell," I noted with a little trace of bitterness in my voice.
I was ready to leave and start looking for new employment. Flanagan turned
to me. "Kyle -- may I call you Kyle?" I nodded. "Kyle, we would like you to
stay on as the grill chef and also to work as a sous chef under the new man
we're going to hire."
"What?"
"I think you heard me correctly. We want you to stay. And we are willing to
pay you your regular salary when we're closed for about three months. The
only proviso is that you sign a two-year contract promising to return when
we reopen. There will also be a nice pay increase when we reopen." I could
not believe what I was hearing. They were going to *pay me* not to
work for three months! This was heaven -- or so it seemed at the time. It
would mean that I would be on paid holiday for the entire summer.
I had real difficulty replying. I think I stammered something like okay and
we shook hands. He told me to take anything that I thought I would need in
the future, gave me his card, and asked me to call his office in two days
to set up an appointment for the legal matters.
When I received the legal paperwork, I went to see my father. As an
attorney I trusted him; as a father, well, that's another story ... He
looked them over carefully and pronounced it a good deal. He noted that
after one year I would own five percent of the place, which I thought, was
a very good deal. He congratulated me on rising fast in the very
competitive world of restaurant cooking in Manhattan. I was pleased with
his remarks and told him I would invite the whole family to the opening.
That summer was absolutely glorious if one likes nothing to do. Until the
end of June I basically stayed in Manhattan, catching up on movies and
Broadway shows I had missed. I would occasionally go down to the Jersey
shore and stay with some friends. It was nothing serious, these were
actually just friends. I have to admit that there was some sex during those
weekends but it was just sex, nothing really important.
The entire month of July I spent at mom and dad's cabin in the Adirondack
Mountains in northern New York. My folks called it a cabin, but in
actuality it was a very large home. It had four bedrooms, large living
areas and a substantial terrace overlooking a lake. There was a dock for
the obligatory boat and a tennis court. It was everything that money could
buy in an escape home. The month was extremely relaxing, almost to the
point of inducing a comatose state. My brother and sister and their
families visited for some weeks, but it was basically battery recharging
time. Of course, it was total abstinence except for some occasional
handwork.
I was certainly happy that July was calm because August was an unending
cycle of partying and sex. I spent the full month on Fire Island and it was
just wild. I stayed with a former teacher and irregular lover of mine and
he was very generous in not charging me any rent - just the occasional
purchase of groceries. He was a writer and a very good one at that; he's
had a few best sellers. We were still good friends and I got along very
well with his current lover.
The Saturday night of my second week there we were invited to a fabulous
party at the home of a leading choreographer. He owned what is known in the
area as "The Big House" because of its enormous size. It was a really
stupendous gathering, with many noted celebrities there (I won't "out"
anyone here), two different rock bands, a DJ, an open bar and a buffet
table that would be the envy of a great restaurant.
After getting myself a brew and dancing a bit with some acquaintances, I
was standing on the enormous deck watching the waves crashing against the
shore; suddenly I heard my name being called.
"Kyle! Kyle Garrison." I turned and was confronted by none other than Quinn
Flanagan.
"Quinn! What the hell are you doing here?" He gave me a big hug that I
happily returned.
"Kyle it's great to see you! I didn't think I'd know anyone here." A
younger man, tall, blonde and very ascetic looking, accompanied Quinn.
"Kyle, I'd like you to meet my lifetime partner Devon Harris. Devon, this
is Kyle Garrison, one of the chefs at our new place." I shook the extended
hand of this very beautiful young man; he looked to be in his mid-twenties
and quite a bit younger than Quinn. "Devon's brother Robert is the lead
singer of one of the groups playing here tonight."
"That's great!" I said. "I'll make sure to listen closely."
Devon left to get some beers, but not before giving me an incredibly
gorgeous smile. "He's beautiful, isn't he?" Quinn asked after Devon had
left.
"Extremely!" I replied. "So Devon's the reason for the wedding band, huh?"
"That's it! We've been lovers for about two years now and we had our
commitment ceremony just before my group bought the restaurant." Quinn came
close to me and whispered in my ear, "Believe it or not, his brother's even
cuter." He gave me a big smile and nodded his head. "But Devon is my life
and my love."
"What's he do?"
"Believe it or not he designs restaurant interiors." We both laughed. "He's
an absolute genius! Really! He has already designed four in the New York
City area and ours will be his fifth. It's coming along magnificently. I
think you are going to be stunned when you see how great that old place is
going to look."
"I can't wait!"
"I expect the interior will be finished by Labor Day."
"Does that include the kitchen?"
"The kitchen's already done, and it's just marvelous! The new chef has
already tried it out and pronounced it wonderful."
"Tell me something, Quinn."
"Sure."
I paused and got a very serious look on my face. "What kind of restaurant
is it? What the fuck are we going to be cookin'?"
He completely broke up. Through his laughter he said, "Basically it'll be
Northern Italian with more than a helping of contemporary American." He
slapped me on the back. "You're right! I never told you!" He continued to
laugh.
Devon came back with three beers and said, "They're ready to go on. That
Robert's group, Behavioral Problems up on the platform."
We all strolled into the big group room to listen to the band. When I saw
Robert Harris I had to catch my breath. He was stunning, absolutely
stunning! I know it was love at first sight, something I did not believe in
before that moment. Of course, it was only a one way love affair right now,
but I hoped to remedy that situation very soon.
Robert Harris was as tall as his brother was and as slender. He had a
magnificently boyish face that looked to be hairless; he had very, very
long straight blonde hair that came down almost to his waist. His
incredibly hairless chest (he was stripped to the waist) and slender torso
entranced me. He had just a slight dusting of hair in his armpits (when he
threw his arms in the air I was mesmerized by his armpits). He wore tight
jeans (ripped in all the right places, of course) and showed a decent
package. The top of his underpants showed above the top of his jeans; I was
sure he was wearing boxers. Robert's singing voice was excellent (no
screaming or screeching, but real solid singing) and his movements on stage
were extremely graceful. The total picture he presented was one of great
beauty, talent and confidence. My cock indicated to me the depths of my
feeling about Robert Harris from the moment I first saw him. When his music
began, my brain also put me ! on notice. I was in love.
The music his group played was sort of head banging rock but with more than
a small helping of folk. Yes, folk! It was like the Ramones meet Pete
Seeger. It was good; it was very good and I loved every note of it. Most of
the people there were of the same opinion. The four-man group included a
very good drummer, two excellent guitarists and Robert, who sang and also
played the keyboard.
Their first set ran about forty minutes and when they ended it a very
enthusiastic crowd mobbed them. Stepping off the platform, Robert and the
other band members were immediately surrounded by a sea of people patting
them on the back and hugging them. Devon came to their rescue, throwing
jackets over the four teenagers. They were dripping perspiration and
subject to a chill in the cool evening air.
I got myself another beer and grabbed an unoccupied bench on the deck. I
sat quietly sipping my drink and musing about myself (my favorite subject
in those days) again, where my life of twenty-three years had led me ...
and I was certainly thinking about Robert Harris. I kept seeing his
beautiful face and body floating in the space above the deck. Devon Harris
suddenly interrupted my reveries.
"Excuse me Kyle, but I thought you'd like to meet my brother, Robert.
Robert, this is Kyle Garrison, one of the chefs at Quinn's new restaurant."
I stood up, trying to clear the cobwebs from my addled brain and totally
overcome by the two gorgeous creatures in front of me. I shook Robert's
extended hand and held it for more than a few seconds. We looked into each
other's eyes, then he looked down at the deck.
"I'll leave the two of you together. I've gotta be getting back to Quinn,"
Devon said and slowly walked away.
"Please sit down," I said softly to Robert. "You must be totally exhausted
after that set."
"Yeah, I am pretty tired." He paused and looked at me. "But I knew I wanted
to meet you."
"Thanks. I was very anxious to meet you." I slowly took his hand and held
it in both of mine. "Very anxious." We Just looked at each other for a few
minutes. "Can I get you something to eat or drink?"
"Okay, but only if you're having something."
"Okay, I will." We walked to where a huge buffet was set up with everything
from sushi to lasagna. I took some chicken teriyaki and sushi while Robert
took some salad and California maki roll. We both grabbed a bottle of
Evian.
"Vegetarian," he said while looking at me shyly.
We seated ourselves and ate quietly. That is, our mouths were quiet (except
for the crunching) but our eyes spoke volumes. At least that was the way I
was reading things. While my eyes were busy soaking up the wonderful sight
in front of me, my mind was trying to figure out how I was going to broach
the subject of the two of us getting together. I unobtrusively put my hand
on one of his that was resting on the table.
"I really enjoyed your music, Robert. It was a most unusual mix."
"It is. Lots of people don't like it. They find it too head banging if they
like folk and too folk if they like the hard rock stuff. But we've been
playing it for a while and we like it, which is the most important thing."
"How long you guy been playing?"
"Since we were all kids in grade school."
"School chums, huh?"
Yeah, since the sixth grade."
"How did you get the name Behavioral Problems?"
"Oh, that's funny. Our old name was FGFBBFG."
"What?" I was totally confused.
"Yeah, FGFBBFG. Four Guys From Behind Benny's Father's Garage." We both
laughed. "Then, when we started to play serious gigs we knew we need a
serious name. Tommy was taking a psychology course and he like that part of
the book so that's the name."
"You guys go to college together?"
"Three of us do. We go to C.W. Post. The fourth, Fallon, goes to Hofstra."
"What are you majoring in, Robert?"
"Guess!"
"Uh, I'd say, offhand, music!"
"Right!"
I hesitated, then asked, "How old are you, Robert?"
"I'm nineteen," he said bashfully.
"A nice age." I hesitated again, screwed up my courage and said, "Robert,
I'm going to be very honest with you." Th smile immediately left his face;
I think he knew what I was going to say. "My brain has been going crazy
from the first time I first saw and heard you on that stage. I am extremely
.. attracted to you. I'm sure you've heard this from a ton of guys, because
you are so fucking good looking. But I am really drawn to you ... and would
like to get to know you better. I also think that you are a little bit
drawn to me."
"There's nothing I'd like more than to get to know you better. I'm
certainly attracted to you too, Kyle." He faltered for a second and I
noticed tears coming to his eyes. "But I have had some--some very bad, uh,
times, uh, relationships in the last, er, few, uh, years and I don't ...
know if, er, if I'm emotionally ready ... to take on another one. I think
I'm much better off staying ... by myself. I'm so sorry, Kyle."
He stood up quickly, but I grabbed one of his hands with both of mine.
"Don't leave me here hanging like this, Robert. Speak to Me! Please!" I
begged.
"I can't. I just c--c--c--can't!" He started crying, pulled his hand from
mine and walked quickly away.
I was left in complete turmoil. I felt like crying myself. I put my head in
my hands and shook it slowly. "Another fuck up!" I said to myself.
"Kyle?" I heard Quinn calling me. I picked up my head and Quinn sat down
opposite me. "Kyle, what happened?"
"Oh, I just fucked up again, Quinn. This time with Robert!" I was beginning
to tear up and I really didn't feel like talking to anyone; self-loathing
was uppermost in my mind now.
"How'd you fuck up with Robert?"
"I came on to him too strongly and he just ran away."
"I knew something was up. He ran up to Devon and pulled him away."
We just looked at each other for a few minutes, each wanting to speak, but
each deciding not to. Finally, Quinn began. "Kyle, it's nothing you did.
I'm sure! Robert has had some very unfortunate ... sexual, uh, incidents in
the last year or so, and he is feeling very, very vulnerable. I don't know
the details and Devon won't tell me. But I know it isn't you. Please
believe that, okay?"
"Okay, fine. It isn't me," I said sarcastically.
"Kyle, why don't you want to believe me?" Quinn said emphatically.
"Because I've been striking out with guy after guy for the last three
years, that's why! My life has been one flop relationship after another.
Oh, we go out, we have sex and all and I think its all right but after a
few follow-up dates I'm completely forgotten: dropped like a diseased
person -- like a real zero. At least Robert had the decency to say `No
Thanks' before we even got anywhere."
"Kyle, I'm telling you it's not your fault!"
I vacillated a bit. "I'm sorry but I can't agree with you, Quinn. And I
honestly think I know what's wrong. People are able to see my desperation;
it's like flop sweat all over my forehead. I'm looking for a long term,
meaningful relationship. Nobody wants that. The minute I bring up the
subject of living together, I get the fuck-off indicator. People can read
me like a book; I have the words `Desperate Man' tattooed on my face."
"That's what I wanted and I was so fortunate to find Devon. I'm sure you'll
find someone, Kyle. Remember, you've got a great job now!" We both smiled.
Just then Devon came over to the table. He looked totally miserable. His
eyes were red and his face was flushed. He squatted down beside me and
leaned in towards me. I immediately panicked. I thought he was going to
beat the shit out of me or do something else equally awful! Instead he
spoke softly in my ear. "Kyle, can we go for a walk on the beach. I must
talk to you."
"Sure," I said and stood up. Quinn also rose and Devon whispered something
to him and Quinn nodded. Devon gave me a small smile and we walked out to
the beach.
We went about one hundred yards from the house, but we could clearly hear
the group playing. There was a full moon that night and a sea breeze coming
off the ocean. We found a dune and sat down.
Devon started talking in a very deliberate manner. He looked at me and gave
me a wan smile. "First, Robert wants me to apologize for his erratic and
cloddish behavior. He is feeling a lot of pressure tonight because he knows
that there are a few record producers here. It could be a big break for the
band."
"Tell Robert I understand," I said rather stiffly. "And I wish him and the
band good luck; they are very talented and deserve it."
"Thanks, I'll tell him. Second, let me tell you something about me and
Robert. We come from a very, very fucked up family. There are six of us
kids, all boys; Robert is the youngest and I'm number four. Mom and dad
both hit the sauce pretty hard and we had a fuckin' rotten time growing
up. When Robert was six and I was twelve the folks split up. The oldest
three went with dad and the youngest three kept with mom. . By the way,
number five was Ted who was two years younger than me; he died in a
motorcycle accident a few years ago." Devon paused here and wiped his
eyes. "Anyway, we stayed with mom and she tried to raise us right. She did
a pretty fuckin' lousy job of it. It was a real hand to mouth existence.
The three of us had to sleep in one bed and, of course, the three of us had
sex together.
"We became very good at it. We worked on all different combinations. When
Ted and me both passed puberty, we would both fuck Robert's ass and he
loved it. We had a great old time." He laughed slightly at this recalled
memory. "Anyway, by the time Robert reached puberty both Ted and me were
out of the house. I was in college and I don't know where Ted went when he
dropped out of high school. I would see Robert on most weekends and he
seemed to be getting shyer and shyer and more and more moody. The only time
he would let go and open up was when he was performing with the band. In
front of an audience, he was really dynamite!
"Those guys in the band are great together and they really love each other.
I didn't know the sexual orientation of the other three of `em, but I just
assumed that they were foolin' around a bit. Why not? But Robert seemed to
become more and more withdrawn. One weekend I asked him what was wrong. At
first he said nothing, but after some real prodding, he opened up a bit. He
told me that he was very ashamed of his cock and balls -- his genitals --
and he began to weep. I couldn't believe this because all of us boys had
big cocks - at least seven inches long and pretty thick. And we all had
real low-hangers. I asked for more details about his genitals and he told
me he had a real small dick; in fact he called it a 'dickie'. The guys in
gym were making his life a living hell; even some of the girls were
knowledgeable of his condition and making sarcastic remarks to him. Fuckin'
bitches!
"I asked if I could see his genitals, and he immediately shook his head and
started to leave the room. I persisted - I told him I wanted to help him
and he lowered his jeans. He was wearing a pair of baggy boxers and he
began to lower them, too. When he got them to the top of his knees I was
able to see his package. My first reaction was 'My God! Did Robert get
short changed or what?' His cock was very small, only about one-inch long
soft. However, he definitely had the family low hangin' balls. His sac and
balls hung down a good four plus inches. I was certainly beginning to feel
sorry him because he really looked a bit weird. Here he was with these
enormous balls and almost no cock. It looked like it had been cut off."
Robert paused here, looked at me and put his hand on my knee. "Kyle, I
don't know exactly how to say this, so bear with me, okay?
"Absolutely," I said while nodding my head.
"Robert is a wonderful person. He's so loving and so giving. He's the
nicest person I know; and I'm not saying this just because he's my kid
brother. He's had a real fucked up life until now. Things are starting to
turn around. The band has given him something to work and live for, and an
outlet for his real creative energies. What he really needs is someone
... to love -- and to love him in return." Devon could not hold back his
tears any longer and started blubbering at this point. He was really
breaking up. "I'm sorry, Kyle. I love him so much. I love him so fuckin'
much!"
"I understand, Devon. I understand," I said soothingly as I rubbed his hand
that was on my knee.
We sat quietly while Devon calmed down. I was listening to the combinations
of the waves crashing on the shore, the wind and the sound of the rock band
playing up at "The Big House." My mind was flooded with conflicting
thoughts and emotions. "Am I the one to love him? Am I the person who can
properly provide Robert with the love and stability he needs? Shit, I need
love and stability in my life, too! How can one emotional cripple help
another? On the other hand, maybe that is what we both need - we can
compliment each other. I have found some stability in my work, thank God!
But I need stability in a ongoing relationship, also. Maybe Robert can
provide that. Christ, I do love him! I love him even more now that I know
about his fucked up life. People insensitive to his physical problem have
hurt him while my life has been in turmoil by people unfeeling to my need
to find a sustained relationship. I'm sure he's the one for me. But, am I
the one for him? Am I?! "
Devon spoke again after a few minutes. "Anyway to get back to the first
time I saw Robert's sex organs. I asked him how long his cock was when it
was hard. He said it was under three inches. I gasped slightly. I felt very
sorry for him. He wondered if his small dick was because Ted and me used to
plow his ass so much when he was still a kid. I told him that I used to
plow Ted and he had a big dick. This didn't make him feel any better.
"I was sitting on the bed and Robert was standing. I pulled him towards me
and put my head on his chest. I slowly began to stroke his body. I wanted
to make love to him. I'm sure he wanted that also. I had him step out of
his jeans and shorts. I moved my hands to his genitals and started to rub
them lightly. He immediately got hard - and yes, his cock was about three
inches long when hard. I removed his shirt and began to caress his
beautiful chest. He started moaning and panting and was enjoying what I was
doing to his body. I undressed quickly and we both fell into bed.
"It was a time of unbridled passion. We really did get it on that
afternoon. We did everything except for Robert screwing me; we did that at
a later time. When I sucked and nipped at his big balls, he went almost
ballistic. When I licked and sucked his penis, I was rewarded with an
incredible explosion of pent-up passion and a-hell-of-a-lotta semen. The
size of his dick had nothing to do with how rewarding sex with Robert was.
It was a wonderful day. I loved everything about it. I'm sure that he did
too. We've had many repeats of that day, but nothing together since I met
Quinn.
"Robert remained very shy but seemed to come out of his shell a bit after
we made love that day. Right after that the band really got going. They
started taking gigs outside of school for the first time. I think that our
lovemaking had something to do with that; at least I hope so.
"I don't know if you know, but Robert writes all the songs the group
performs. They're good, aren't they?"
"Oh, yes. They're very good, and Robert is a real talent." I looked up at
the moon. "Devon, I'm going to be honest with you. I appreciate you telling
me all of this about Robert. The first time I saw him on that small stage
-- looking so incredibly gorgeous -- moving so beautifully -- singing so
wonderfully -- I knew I was in love with him." I halted for a few seconds.
"I've had a pretty shitty love life myself. I've always wanted to be
committed to someone and to have someone committed to me, but I've never
been that fortunate." I hesitated a few seconds and looked at Devon. "Tell
me, what happened tonight? What did I do to set Robert off like that?"
"Well, the thing that really got him going, I think, was the last
relationship he had. The guy seemed so nice and accepting of Robert and
his, er, condition at first. But he turned out to be a fucking sadist
and he brutalized Robert. Cuts and sores crisscrossed his ass and back. At
one point the guy had him strung up with chains and tried to make his dick
bigger by hanging increasing weights from it. He's also had a few other
sexual encounters over the years, but he always felt they were laughing at
him and that after he slept with someone they would go running and make
jokes with their friends about this beautiful guy whom they had fucked and
he had a real tiny little dick. He is incredibly self-conscious of his
small dick size and it has kept him from all relationships since the sadist
episode which ended about four months ago. I don't he's had sex with anyone
since then."
Devon paused again and looked me directly in the eyes. "Kyle, he needs
someone stable in his life. As I said, he is a wonderful person. He needs
someone who can really care for him and help him in his career by
supporting him with love and devotion. He is still a kid and is very, very
vulnerable."
Now I was sobbing. I didn't know what to do.
We both stood up and I hugged Devon closely. "Thank you, Devon." He
withdrew slightly and I held him at arm's length; my hands were resting on
his shoulders. "Tell Robert that I accept his apology. Tell him that I'm
very sorry I acted so rashly. Say that I look forward to meeting and
speaking with him again -- very soon I hope. I think I'm going to pass on
the rest of the party, though. I'm going to go back to where I'm staying
and I'll try to get a good night sleep. This has been a really fucked up
evening. My feelings are in turmoil. I want to thank you again, Devon. I
hope a good night sleep will help me come to a sane decision and see the
whole situation in a different light."
Devon gave me a light kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Kyle. I know that you'll
do what is right for yourself -- and for Robert."
I watched as Devon slowly walked back to the house, occasionally looking
back at me and waving. I heard Behavioral Problems begin their second
set. I sluggishly walked back to the house and went to my bedroom. What an
incredible night! I replayed the events that led me going to sleep hours
earlier than I had originally planned. What an incredibly fucked up night!
When I got back to the house, I undressed and got into bed. I was naked --
the way I usually slept. I took two sleeping pills -- I definitely did not
want to be awakened when my host and his lover returned. And I definitely
did not want thoughts of beautiful Robert Harris preventing me from
sleeping. I fell asleep in about ten minutes.
When I woke up, there was considerable noise and laughter coming from the
living room. It was the usual Sunday morning brunch hosted by my writer
friend; it was a literary circle and the local writers were devouring
smoked salmon, bagels, smoked fish and gravalax. I glanced at the clock on
the nightstand -- it was 10:20. God had I slept! I knew I had to get up soon
and join the crowd in the living room -- it was expected of me. I sat up and
stretched. My hand suddenly struck something. It felt like flesh. I turned
quickly and gave out a small shriek of happiness. Robert was lying there in
my bed and his shimmering blue eyes were staring right at me.
"W--W--W--What the fuck are you doing here?!" I managed to stammer out.
"I just came to tell you that I accept your apology," he said with a
gorgeous smile on his lips and a lilt in his voice.
"That's nice," I managed to say while continuing to stare at him. "How the
hell did you get into my bed?"
"Your roommate let me in. You were really zonked!"
"Yeah, I took two sleeping pills. How the hell do you know my roommate?"
"Well, it's a long story, but the summarized version is that I know your
roommate's lover from high school. He was one of my teachers," Robert said
sheepishly.
I was transfixed by the sight before my eyes. He was a vision, an absolute
vision. His luscious, creamy skin glowed in the morning sunlight. He looked
like an angel as the sun made his gorgeous blonde hair shine with an
otherworldly shimmer. I was most definitely seeing things in a different
light.
He sat up slightly, resting on one elbow. "I wanted to apologize to you in
person. You seemed so caring last night and I'm sorry that I rejected you
out of turn and acted like such a shit."
"I understand, Robert. I really do so understand completely. I'm sure you
know that Devon and I had a lengthy conversation."
"Yes, he told me about your talk on the beach. Well, maybe you don't know
the full, er, the whole story."
"There is a 'whole story'?"
"Yes, there is."
"What is it?"
"The whole story is ... that I'm deeply in love with you."
I gasped quite audibly. I smiled at my love. I leaned over and kissed him
very lightly on the lips and licked his lips with my tongue. "I love you
too, Robert. I love you very much. I knew that I was in love with you the
minute I saw and heard you on that stage last night. I immediately knew you
were everything I wanted in a man."
"How did you know so quickly?"
"Your songs told me!"
He smiled a really great, big smile at this last comment. "And I knew when
I saw you standing in front of the stage with that fabulous look in your
eyes." He took a deep breath. "Yet we only spoke for a few minutes. How
are we so sure, so very sure, that we truly love each other?"
"One knows these things in here," I said pointing to my head. "And in
here," and I gestured to my heart. "It's called the magic of love." We
kissed again. "Speaking of magic, I have to get to the toilet and pretty
damned soon otherwise we will have another visitor in this bed - and an
unwelcome one at that."
I quickly hopped out of bed and practically ran to the john, where I pumped
out a healthy stream. Robert walked in and we pissed together. After
shaking it off, I put my arms around his incredibly thin waist and pulled
him towards me. We kissed passionately, I exploring every corner of his
mouth and sucking on his tongue, he doing the same to me. It was a very
rewarding experience.
We slowly made our way back to the bedroom. I turned so that we were facing
each other. I kissed him again, letting my hands play along the sides and
back of his great body. I had been erect since our first deep kiss in the
bathroom. Robert was also erect, and the feel of his cock against my body
was like electricity.
I looked down at his genitals and they were exactly as Devon has described
them. However, I found Robert's undersized cock to be extremely erotic,
exciting and enticing - it was so manly and yet so boyishly beautiful. I
knew I wanted it in my mouth as soon as humanly possible. I lowered my hand
and enveloped this marvelous cock with my fingers. The softness was
incredible to feel, like silk being slowly drawn across the palm of my
hand. I lowered my other hand and hefted his enormous scrotal sac: it
was so velvety soft and so absolutely exquisite. Those magnificent orbs,
resting in the palm of my hand, sent a tremendous quiver throughout my
entire body.
I wrapped my arms around Robert fabulous body and I kissed him deeply. "You
are magnificently beautiful, my Robert," I whispered in his cute little
ear.
"All of me, Kyle?" he said in a soft voice, and pulled back, looking deeply
into my eyes.
"Absolutely. All of you, my love."
"I love you so very much, Kyle."
"And I adore you, Robert."
Robert started to tear up again. I put my arms around his waist again. My
mind was a whirl. "I must take it slowly with Robert. I don't want to scare
him. We are two damaged people rejected and humiliated by those whom we
thought loved us. We have happily found each other. Let us both be happy in
what we have discovered."
As I maneuvered our bodies toward the bed I turned and locked the bedroom
door as we passed it. And while the quasi-literary establishment of Fire
Island continued to eat their sumptuous free breakfast, Robert and I made
slow, deep, passionate and seemingly endless love - and feasted on each
other. It was the beginning of our lives together ...
The End
Author's Note: I hope you have enjoyed reading about Kyle and Robert almost
as much as I have had writing about them. If you have any comments (good,
bad or indifferent) please, please let me know at my e-mail address:
cutter57@hotmail.com . I appreciate all criticism and will hopefully
answer all e-mails.
Thanks
Robert J. Cutter